Felicity Kendal describes the joy of working with her 'Good Life’ co-star
Richard Briers and her regrets that they didn’t stay in touch before he died

I try not to do regrets – I think they’re such a waste of time – but I now have one. Not having kept in closer touch recently with Richard Briers, or Dickie as I used to call him, is a real sadness to me now that he has gone.

The first I heard of his illness was some weeks ago, in a slightly unkind and not very accurate interview in one of the daily newspapers, in which he was described as having emphysema. I was about to go abroad and determined to contact Dickie and his family on my return. It was not to be, as he died before I got back.

That is my regret to deal with, but nothing compared to the sorrow of his very close family, whom he adored. This lovely man was one of the funniest I have ever met, and I loved him dearly. He taught me so much about the craft of comedy. He was generous to work with and was always beyond sweet and patient to me.

At the time we worked together on The Good Life, he was also supportive of my complex and traumatic personal life. I had a failing marriage and an ill-husband. While Barbara was all sweetness and light, my real life was far from that. But Richard cheered me on and made it possible to forget my troubles at rehearsal and filming, and to plunge into the world of work. He was a real rock. In fact, we all four bonded in a way few companies do. We loved being together and had very much the same style of working. We worked as a team, not as leading actors, and it was the show as whole we worked on, not ever trying to outdo the other or pull focus. All of us were theatre-trained, and that gave us all a style that gelled.

But we also got on as pals. We would take it in turns to spend weekends that we had off to meet for a meal, either in a restaurant or at one of our homes. Penny’s [Penelope Keith] was always favoured, for her cooking was superb, Paul [Eddington] for his wine cellar, and Dicky for everything. I don’t remember my turns being much cop…

I remember leaving Paul’s after a particularly wonderful lunch, with quite amazing wine, and being a bit worried about driving. Dickie, as tipsy as I was but as always very protective, told me to follow him in his car and he would guide me safely home. In our state of intoxication, this was vital. Do remember, dear reader, this was some time ago before the breathalyser test, and it was not as shocking as it would be today to drive a bit pissed. Well, I got into my Mini, trusting my dear Dickie to lead me home safely, and off we set. At the first lights, he indicated right. The lights turned green, and he turned left and sped off home! It was a one-way street. I dared not follow.

There are too many wonderfully funny times to put even a fraction down. On set, he would have the odd problem with a line or two and write it down on a small peice of paper and hide it behind a prop on the kitchen table or behind some garden tool or mug. This was a clever way to save time if he dried [forgot his lines]. He rarely did, in fact. My trick was to move it out of reach or put my hand over it at the moment it was needed – a silly, childish game you play at work only with people you trust and love.

I remember his joy when Penny – and Penny alone… – won every award going for the series. Dickie, who was, after all, the big star of the show (though he never acted as if he was), would be so proud and joke that she had stolen his series from under his nose.

The make-up room during the filming of The Good Life was like being in a comedy club, with Dickie and Paul telling jokes and fooling about. Dickie hated being made up and was partcularly loathed to allow any mascara near his eyes – a shame, as he had lovely eyes on camera, if they were fringed in brown lashes! But we had a very pretty make-up lady and she was the only one who was allowed near him on days he felt a little fragile, as he often said it was too cold or too early to be made up. He was a tremendous flirt in the nicest possible way at work, and the most adoring husband, and devoted father at home.

He taught me more than anyone about comedy and timing. He taught me the importance of feeding a line to a fellow actor so they will get the desired laugh; it’s vital in comedy. He taught me how to work as a team and still be a lead player. He taught me to laugh at myself as he did, and not take myself too seriously.

He wasn’t always that sweet – there was a very acerbic side to him and he really did not suffer fools at all, let alone gladly, and he hated anything that was not dedicated and professional. He took his work very seriously, though not himself doing it. He wasn’t very keen on pigs or working with animals either, was a bit iffy about handling chickens, and did not much care for mud – not easy when playing the part of an animal-loving home farmer!

All this made for many a hysterically funny shoot. He became very close to Paul and they would discuss life and wine and Denville Hall [the actors’ retirement home in Middlesex] and old actors and theatrical stories – it is a miracle we filmed anything at all, as we were always talking and sharing stories. But although I remember the jokes and the japes, there was also the hard work. We became very close, all four of us, although the bond of working together on such a wonderful job could never have been sustained in real life. We all moved on to our own families and careers. If Paul had not died, we might have stayed in closer touch.

After having lost Paul and our wonderful director John Howard Davies, I thought Dickie, Penny and I would go on forever, like The Good Life seems to do, somehow still there, being repeated again and again after all these years, still funny and making people laugh and being positive about how silly life can be.

Dickie was a consummate actor on stage and film, even though he was best known for his many, many television series. I think the BBC owe him a statue!

I am sure he would have been proud of his family and friends at his funeral. The standing ovation he got as his coffin was carried out of the church was splendid. There is nothing an actor loves more than applause!

Darling, Dickie, thank you for more than I can put down here. Bravo, sweet, darling, funny man.